a week in a lifetime
by ayumi-nightbeauty
Summary: [Tumblr's DigiOTPWeek] Because every day is significant. [YamaSora]
1. august 10th

So. Yeah, I'm doing this digiotpweek thingy. Or at least, I'll try. :B

This is the first one, I hope I can manage with the rest!

Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

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 **"a week in a lifetime"**

 **(Because every day is significant.)**

* * *

 _August 10th: Day of Firsts – Kisses_

The thing was, Yamato wanted to kiss her right now. Very, very much.

The danger had passed, the new Chosen had gone home _(in fact, he'd insisted on walking Takeru, Miyako and Iori to their building, just to be safe)_ , and now he'd been left standing on the sidewalk, bouncing on his feet nervously, as he thought of what to say to the girl standing next to him.

Sora.

He could not get the image of her knocking shyly on the dressing room they were using before going on-stage. Yamato hadn't really reacted to seeing her until Akira hit his shoulder, and he'd blushed. And Sora, still standing by the open door, shifting nervously, blushed as well. That would've been funny, it he hadn't been so nervous.

To tell the truth, Yamato didn't remember much of it. He didn't remember how they came to be alone, only they were at some point and Sora was suddenly very close to him. He remembered the blood rushing through his vein and his pulse echoing in his ears. He remembered the heat climbing up his neck and resisting the urge to rub his sweaty palms on his jeans.

He remembered her lovely face and shy smile, he remembered her soft voice telling him she'd baked him a Christmas' Cake and the tentative way she'd handed him the wrapped gift. He remembered accepting the gift, thanking her for it.

He remembered taking her hand, smiling and _thanking_ her for the gift.

Then she'd _smiled_ , brilliantly, and that— _that_ image was pretty much burned in his brain.

A light brush against his cheek made him snap out of his memories. He blinked a few times, finally seeing Sora standing in front of him, waiting. Her cheeks were flushed and he couldn't tell if it was due to the cold or something _else_.

Yamato smiled at her, wanting to hold her hands but not really knowing if it was allowed yet, so he shoved them in his pockets.

"I'll walk you home," he said.

She smiled, and slowly they started walking side by side, shoulder barely touching. Both were silent but Yamato was inexplicably aware of _her_ ; her light steps and the nervous way with which she played with her thumbs. Even the glances she stole his way, thinking he wasn't paying attention.

He wondered when Sora became so _fascinating_.

A few minutes later, and they were halfway to her home. Gabumon and Piyomon were walking ahead of them chatting lightly, and Yamato was struggling to not blurt out what he had on his mind. He stopped walking.

It didn't work.

"Can I kiss you?"

Sora froze mid-step, and remained like a statue for so _long_ _(at least, that's how he felt it)_ , that Yamato began to wonder if he'd overstepped a line. If he'd done the _unthinkable_ and screwed up.

He didn't.

Sora turned around slowly, her face was bright red but she didn't look alarmed or, God forbid, disgusted. She looked nervous and anxious—eager. Their digimon partners stopped a little bit ahead of them, and stayed there.

Yamato closed the distance between them.

"I… I really like you, Sora, so… I mean, I guess you know. Now," he mumbled, feeling stupid for saying it because, he'd accepted her gift, hadn't he?

"I know," she said gently, smiling softly. "I wasn't sure the first time you thanked me, but," she paused, her smile widened, "but I _knew_ the second time. I knew."

"Okay… then, I…"

Her hands were fidgeting again, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and grab them. They froze; locked eyes… the previous question fell over them, like a warm blanket. One, two, three beats later and… Sora nodded.

"Alright…"

Their fingers entwined, and unconsciously, they both take the remaining step forward, knees and chests bumping and Yamato leaned towards her. And it suddenly hit him that he was leaning down and just how damn _cute_ was that? Sora had never looked short to him before, so it was shocking to see she actually _was_. And it was cute and so damn endearing.

It made him want to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the _world_. He'd do it too, if he weren't so sure she'd probably kick his ass for it.

Their noses brushed against each other and they froze one more time. A suspended second. Yamato looked into her eyes _(they were sparkling)_ , searching for the definite yes—her eyelids fluttered, and then dropped. He got it. Closing his eyes, he tilted his chin forward, brushing her lips once with his own.

 _«Go slow, go slow…»_

A shared gasp, and Sora pressed forward.

And they kissed.

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 **End.**

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For now. If it all goes accordingly, I'll update tomorrow. I hope.

Thanks for reading, and please review! :D It's always good to read your comments, good or bad.


	2. august 11th

Well, I managed to do this one, on time! :D

I've never wrote anything with digimons actually interacting with their partners. In the last one Gabumon's there, but he doesn't really interacts with Yamato. So, this one was a challenge for me.

I hope I managed to do this duo justice.

 **Disclaimer: I'm not making any money with this.**

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 **(Because every day is significant.)**

* * *

 _August 11th: In the Digital World or with Digimon Partners – Or both_

"Yamato… stop pacing! You're making me dizzy!"

The blond-haired boy _(on the cusp of adulthood he added mentally, as he'd often do when someone called him that)_ frowned but didn't slow down. Off to his side, Gabumon huffed and stopped complaining about his pacing for the next few moments.

He was nervous, alright? It just—it wasn't as if he thought Sora would stand him up, no. But this was their third anniversary, and he'd actually _planned_ it. Yamato just wanted it to be good, because before… before he'd propose they go on a date, and then let her decide where she wanted to go.

He made an effort now, inviting her to dinner and movies and, god help him, _dancing_ , but the money was not much, almost never _enough_ , so they usually ended up hanging out at his place. Definitely not the most romantic of places, even if they did end up… getting _rather_ comfortable.

And his plan now seemed to be perfect, as far as Takeru and Gabumon said, although—and Yamato rolled his eyes—not that that was much to go by. But a picnic in a flower-covered clearing, at sunset and then a relaxing bath at the hot springs sounded pretty good, even for his _romantically_ ignorant brain.

Even if Sora kept rolling her eyes at _that_ , claiming he was pretty romantic but just in denial.

 _«I'm not in denial, there's not a single romantic fiber in my being.»_

After all, he had written a lot of songs inspired by her. Even if he'd never let the world know that. That secret would die with him.

 _«And Sora… See? I'm not in denial.»_

Yamato kept pacing, and not much later, started cursing as well as an idea came to him.

"Dammit," he growled. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

"Yamato?"

"I should've brought my guitar, Sora loves it when I sing to her," he mumbled, his pacing increasing; he ignored the way his partner looked off into the distance. "I can't go get it, there's not time—or perhaps…"

"Yamato!"

Gabumon interrupted his pacing, by tackling his legs. He went down with a loud thud and twisted around to glare at his partner. But before he could say anything, the digimon pointed ahead.

"They're coming."

Quickly, and because now that he wasn't mumbling to himself Yamato could actually hear Sora and Piyomon getting closer, he stood up, dusting his clothes off and turned to Gabumon, glaring a little because he couldn't think to be able to get all the dirt off.

"Are you sure you remember where the hot springs are? The same ones we came across the first time we came to the digiworld?"

Gabumon huffed, but nodded. "Yes, Yamato, I remember. Now, hurry! They're almost here."

"Yeah," he took his digivice, feeling it warming up already. "Don't forget to make yourself scarce when we go to take a bath."

"And take Piyomon along with me, I won't."

A deep breath, and Yamato finally managed to calm down enough to relax; he smiled. "Thank you for doing this, Gabumon."

The now glowing digimon grinned, his voice already morphing as well as his body. "No problem, Yamato!"

By the time Garurumon was standing in front of him, Sora was already calling his name. Yamato smirked, and spun around just in time to catch his grinning girlfriend. Sora jumped into his open arms, laughing breathlessly as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, mumbling her apologies for being late.

His smirk melted into a smile; he tightened his embrace.

 **.**

They never did have that picnic. As soon as she heard the plan, Sora took Yamato right into the hot springs.

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 **End.**

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This one is short, haha. So, I really want to know your opinion, I think it turned out fine, but I dunno...

Anyway! Thanks for reading and please review! :D


	3. august 12th

:D So, I managed to finish this one too!

I hope you enjoy it. There's... no celebration? But there are mentions of one, it still counts, right? :B

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

* * *

 **(Because every day is significant.)**

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 _August 12th: Celebrations – Birthdays_

For the first time in weeks, she slept peacefully.

Yamato watched her in silence, willing the night away. He smiled when he heard her sigh softly in her sleep, and had to smother a chuckle when she mumbled what sounded like a complaint. If his ears proved to be right, it sounded a lot like "Yamato, stop". Sora kicked out a leg, nearly hitting him in the process.

This time he did chuckle.

Slowly, he scooted up the bed until he could lean back onto the headboard. Yamato gazed at her with a tenderness that, if he'd been able to see it, would've shocked him. Oh, Sora told him plenty he was so capable of being gentle and tender and _loving_ , even if he denied it nine ways to Sunday. Ironic, because he had the same problem convincing her of all her finer points, like her kindness and acceptance and her capability to _love_.

He grinned. They were well suited for each other.

Sora mumbled again, drawing his attention to her pouty lips, and he would've kissed them but lately she didn't take kindly to being woken up abruptly and she really needed the sleep, so. Again, she mumbled, but then smiled, and finally seemed to relax completely once more.

His eyes moved over her until he stopped at her abdomen. Her very distended abdomen. And even though he'd just gotten comfortable, he scooted slowly over the bed until he was close enough to lean into her full belly and kissed it. Slowly, he slid over the bed until he had most of his legs hanging over the edge, but could face Sora's abdomen more comfortable.

"Hey, little baby," he whispered, and laughed mutely. "It's weird to call you just baby, but your Mama is very stubborn about keeping your gender a secret. She doesn't know, and seems fine by it, but Papa wants to know… I want to _know_ …"

There was a pause, and Yamato caressed the skin around Sora's hips gently.

"I bet you're a girl," he grinned again, "and that you're going to be very troublesome, like now. Mama's not happy she has to sleep on her side. She doesn't like that."

He bits his lower lip to stop the amused snort, because it was _true_. Sora hadn't stopped complaining about that after her belly got too big to sleep on her back or her front. It was amusing; because he remembered the first time they started being intimate with each other, _way-back-when_ ; the first time sharing a bed to actually _sleep_. He'd tried to spoon her, but Sora had kindly elbowed him in the ribs and told him, in a surprisingly gentle voice, with a tender and loving expression mixed with _annoyance_ , that unless a certain, _very_ specific set of conditions were met, she never slept on her side.

Yamato had blinked, once, twice, and then nodded slowly; it took him some time, but he eventually deciphered the meaning behind her statement. So, he'd agreed. And in the end, it wan't so bad, because, when those conditions weren't being met, Sora either slept sprawled half on top of him, or she let him use her as a pillow.

So, all was good.

"You'll be with us soon," he went on. "Too bad you missed your Mama's birthday; it was a disaster but she was great. She had lots of fun… It was lots of fun, what with your Uncle Taichi being his usual, exuberant self."

He rolled his eyes as he remembered the mayhem caused by Taichi, and then _again_ but this time at himself, because he was actually picturing what the baby would do if he or she were here, listening to him. Obviously not nodding in agreement, probably sleeping and cooing.

Most likely sleeping. Or crying.

"Now, little one, we need to set some ground rules, ok?" Yamato got no answer, but it didn't stop him. "You can have Mama's boobies during the day, but they're mine during the night. Alright?"

The hand that brushed his bangs aside made him freeze for a second, but then he let out a sigh and turned to find Sora looking at him through half-lidded eyes, a sleepy smile gracing her face.

"What're you doing?"

For a moment, he thought of cracking a joke _(those she found entirely unamusing)_ , but decided against it and smiled instead. Placing one last kiss on her belly, Yamato shuffled up the bed, under the sheets and let Sora snuggle into him.

"I was talking to the baby."

Sora chuckled softly against his neck, burrowing deeper into his embrace. "That's so cute…"

She sounded so sleepy, Yamato had to wonder what woke her up.

As if sensing his inquiry, Sora said, "The baby kicked me."

"Well, the baby didn't get _that_ from me."

Her hand slid from the place on his chest, passing over his ribs and settling on his side; he squirmed, that tickled.

"Don't make me pinch you, Yamato," she said, her voice soft, but equally threatening.

Still _(and he had to wonder if perhaps their friends were right to say there had been a fixed smile on his face for months now_ _—dammit, he had an image to uphold_ _)_ , his smile widened. And soon after, he felt her drifting off to sleep again. Yamato pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered a happy birthday again.

Definitely, all was good.

* * *

 **End.**

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I feel like I've been hit by ton of sweetness XD

Thank you for reading! And please, leave your reviews!


	4. august 13th

This one is surprisingly short. But I didn't feel the need to add anythikng else.

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

* * *

 **(Because every day is significant.)**

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 _August 13th: Alternate Universes_

She felt him before she saw him, all around her.

Very little had meaning for Sora nowadays. Time had no consequence anymore; worries, hunger, friends and family, her sense of modesty… very little mattered to her anymore. The burning desire running through her veins mattered; the insatiable longing for his _touch_ mattered.

 _He_ mattered; the Big Bad Wolf—Werewolf.

He stepped into the cave they currently inhabited, his presence washing over her, all-encompassing. Sora trembled, gasping for breath as her body tingled in anticipation; he smirked, all too pleased by her reaction.

As always.

His tail furled and unfurled around his hips as he moved closer, his muscles rippled with every step he took, making her heart skip beats along the way; she licked her lips. As he got closer, Sora walked backwards, until she fell onto the blankets on the ground, into a luxurious sprawl. And in the blink of an eye, he was upon her, pressing into her body.

"Sora…"

She shivered, both by the tone of his voice and his wandering hands; he liked to call her name, often, his deep baritone echoing within her being like a calling—addicted. She'd become addicted to him. She didn't know what to _call_ him, but he didn't seem to mind as long a she was gasping out pleas of more _because_ of him.

Sometimes, she remembered, vaguely, feeling fear. Of him. But that fear vanished so suddenly that Sora had to wonder if it was even _real_. Because now… now there was only the burning desire for him.

All of him.

Her lips parted, a moan escaped, and the blue-eyed Werewolf seized the opportunity to kiss her deeply as his fingers trailed over her abdomen and up, up, up, until his hand reached his goal, squeezing it. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, his other hand wandering down, down, down and leaving a trail of fire in its wake, effectively derailing her train of thought and allowing her only to just _feel_.

" _Soon…"_

The words, she heard them coming from far, far away. Her mind was already overwhelmed with feelings; his lips moving down her neck, his hands grasping her thighs, pushing them apart… Soon, the thought echoed within her fogged mind and then she gasped. The blonde-haired Werewolf settled between her legs and gave her a searing kiss that stole her very soul. He grabbed her hips and pressed forward.

Her world exploded.

 **.**

The pace was maddening for her, if her whimpers and please said anything at all.

Perfect.

He did it on purpose and he did it _all the time_. And he wouldn't stop until this woman was his completely—yearning, welcoming, _his_ —for eternity. His ear twitched, as did his tail when her hands started moving over him. From his shoulders to his neck and down his chest in such a light caress that set his body ablaze.

He grinned darkly.

The preparations to turn her were almost complete, and then she'd _be_ like him—with him, _forever_.

Soon.

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 **End.**

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Well. I dunno what to say? :P This has an explanation tho...

Anyway! Thanks for reading and please review!


	5. august 14th

Well, I don't know what to say because this oneshot started with this one funny idea and then... it kind of got away from my control. Plot twist and all that, it did on its own.

I think it still fall under the day's prompt.

And, I seem to be obsessed in writting Yamato's POV.

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

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 **(Because every day is significant.)**

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 _August 14th: Overcoming Challenges & Obstacles_

Yamato stared intently at the object in his hand, a frown marring his face as he tried to piece together the essentials of his task. In his pocket, there was a set of instructions, but… he was a trained soldier of Japan's Self-defense Air Force who'd recently become First Lieutenant after years of hard work, he could _do_ this without following instructions.

It wasn't that hard. It couldn't _be_ that hard.

Right? Right.

He looked again at the object in his hands, and then perused those lying about in front of him, all with a purpose in common and yet…

"Oh, there's one missing," he noted, and hurriedly stood up and trotted out of the room and into the adjoining one.

That was his second mistake.

Right where Yamato expected it was the last piece of the befuddle puzzle he had to solve. He picked it up, grimacing, but ultimately gathering his courage to prepare himself for what was to come. With an encouraging mental nod, he walked back to the previous room, thinking he would succeed. After all, he'd overcome bigger obstacles, harder challenges.

This was nothing.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he realized his faux pas; all color drained from his face as first: he noticed the unnatural silence in the room, and second: he realized his _first_ , potentially catastrophic, mistake.

The baby-wipes fell to the floor.

His daughter wasn't lying were he'd left her, playing in her playpen. Nor in the room, as far as he could see or hear. And that's when Yamato remembered, what his wife said before going to that emergency meeting at the office.

" _Don't let her out of your sight, Yamato, she's already crawling everywhere and the playpen it's not exactly restrictive to her."_

For fuck's sake.

"HARUKO!"

 **.**

When Sora had shaken him awake that morning, and then proceeded to place a sleeping Haruko into his arms, Yamato hadn't know what to do. In a half-awake daze, he'd sat up, careful to not jolt his sleeping daughter lest she started crying, and watched as Sora moved hurriedly around their room as she gathered her clothes and prattled about a sudden emergency.

He vaguely remembered Sora telling him to call for anything he might need help for, that she would be home before dinner, that he should make sure to never leave Haruko _alone_ —to watch her, like a freaking hawk, because their baby was a mischievous little devil that had no sense of _fear_.

So, here he was now, practically turning over _every piece of furniture_ in his room, hoping she'd just crawled under one of them—any of them. For fuck's sake, she was just a little baby! Where could've she gone in so little time?!

"Haruko! Call for Papa!" Standing there, amidst the disaster that was now his bedroom, Yamato felt dread gripping his chest. "God, please, don't do this…"

A familiar blip drew his attention to a corner of the room, where his digivice had fallen when he'd knocked over the nightstand. It blipped that familiar tune when it detected another Chosen nearby. Seeing made him recall that both Gabumon and Piyomon had gone back to the digiworld for a few days to avoid turning back into their baby phase.

Yamato took a step towards it, when it happened. His digivice glowed bright, and then a gust of wind surrounded him, before he could even _think_ —there was a loud crash coming from the living room, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

He sprinted out of the room, remembering the last words said by his wife.

" _Oh, and don't forget to lock the glass doors of the balcony; she knows how to open those too."_

The living room was a wreck; it looked as if a tornado had passed through very slowly. The furniture was overturned, the pictures that used to be hanging on the walls were lying about, the SmartTV and his laptop lay broken before him. But none of that mattered, not anymore because Yamato could not tear his eyes off the swaying curtains, off the shattered glass strew about.

The empty balcony.

Jumping over an armchair, Yamato walked across the living room, his mind numbingly blank. His eyes barely blinked as he looked out into the sky. His hand reached over to grab the empty frame of the glass doors, squeezing until it hurt because he didn't want to believe what his eyes were seeing, what his brain was telling, what—

 _«God…»_

"Papa!"

—happened.

Yamato spun around shockingly fast as his frantic eyes scanned the wrecked room, finding her peeking from under the overturned couch with a bright smile on her little face, and the air as well as his strength left him in one deep breath. He fell to his knees.

Haruko grinned at him from her place before retreating further under the couch, calling, "Papa!"

His hands shook as he crawled closer to the couch, and as started to lift it; he knew it was all the adrenaline leaving his system and Yamato just wanted to hold his baby daughter and be reassured of her safety.

The couch finally righted off to the side, Yamato turned to look at Haruko as his hands already reached for her—and he froze.

Haruko laughed as she called for him, raising her tiny hands in joy as her little body swayed in her excitement. For once, Yamato didn't register all those little details that, under different circumstances, would've had him grinning back at her. No.

No.

His attention was focused on the glowing digivice in her little hands, and the egg resting comfortably between her legs.

* * *

 **TBC.**

* * *

Yeah. That.

It will be continued, in a way, this time in Sora's POV. But not till the end.

Thanks for reading! And please review!


	6. august 15th

Well, this took longer than expected because I got distracted all day XD So, here it is. Just a reminder, I don't have a beta, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know.

Also, this is a sort of continuation to the last chapter.

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

* * *

 **(Because every day is significant.)**

* * *

 _August 15th: Fluff Day - Sequel to August 14th_

Unlike Haruko, when Aki got his own digivice and egg, it was a quiet affair.

Sora still remembered that evening, three years ago.

She had stayed at the office until she was sure no further mistakes would be made. Sora knew, that her international career depended on this client and she'd be damned if she let anyone ruin that for her, so, she'd stayed. And long after sunset, it was finally all set. Again.

Arriving home, Sora remembered her sigh of relief, her giddy smile at seeing her child again. She'd thought of cuddling Haruko and doing her best pouty face to get Yamato to cook a late dinner, sure he would relent.

She certainly didn't expect to arrive into the wreck that had been her home.

Now, most of all, Sora remembered the panic that gripped her as she rushed into their home that evening, searching for her husband and child. Thinking, dreading— _expecting_ the worst. But then she'd stumbled into their room and found them both sleeping on the bed.

So very peacefully.

And when she'd moved closer, when she had sat by their side, relieved and with inexplicable tears in her eyes, she had seen the extra digivice in the nightstand, and the eggs clasped between her daughter's hands, and then Yamato had awaken and mumbled that their little girl got her partner with a bang.

Quite literally at that.

Not so, her baby boy.

 **.**

Sundays were the best for her.

Not only because it was almost a sure thing neither she nor Yamato would be called in for work, regardless of anything, but because sometime they had both their families there to spend the day.

Although, not today.

From her place in the kitchen, Sora had an excellent view of the living room and, as such, an excellent view to the happening there. Namely, how Haruko had used her charming smile to get Yamato to let her _fix_ his hair—by placing an assortments of hairclips on him.

Yamato was sitting on the floor, in front of Haruko, who was kneeling on the couch as she combed her hands through her Papa's hair. Aki, in all his eight-month-old glory, was sitting on her husband's lap, chewing on his toys as he tried to grab at Yamato's tablet.

"You're going to look so pretty, Papa!" Haruko exclaimed as she reached over to smooth his bangs back, and placed yet another hairclip on him.

She had to bit her lip to smother her laugher; it's just, Yamato did look pretty with all the hairclips, though probably not in a way he approved. His response had her turning to hide her grin, she took this opportunity to retrieve the last ingredients for their lunch.

"Of course, honey," replied Yamato, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

Sora turned back around just to see Yamato trying to maneuver Aki back in his lap, as apparently, the baby boy had almost fell face first as he tried to reach for Yamato's tablet. Her blonde-haired husband, after securing the little one by holding onto him with one of his hands, placed the tablet on the low table in front of him and started typing.

"Yamato, whatever it is you're doing can wait," she told him, arching an eyebrow when he turned to frown at her. "Aki will end up grabbing your little toy and could break it."

"It's not a toy," he replied.

"Papa, don't move!"

Yamato sighed, and then smiled in relief when the phone started ringing; Sora had to roll her eyes at his eagerness to pick it up. He stood up and handed Aki to his pouting sister, before telling Haruko to hold on tight lest the baby fall. The little girl, taking her role as big sister very seriously, nodded firmly and wrapped her arms around the red-haired baby.

Sora saw Yamato drop his tablet in the far corner of the couch, behind a pillow, and rolled her eyes because Aki might be a baby but was no fool. Shaking her head, she turned to search for a bowl.

"Aki, no. That is Papa's, we cannot touch it."

Sora smiled at her daughter's scolding tone and at her son's sound of complaint. She could already tell, the coming years were going to be a whirlwind of arguments and laughter with those two. Down the hall, Yamato talked with his father, and as Sora reached up to grab the desired bowl, it happened.

A light breeze passed through and Sora froze for a second—a familiar blipping echoed within her home.

"Aki, no!"

Heart in her throat, Sora didn't think twice before running out the kitchen. She met Yamato in the hallway; obviously, he too reacted to their daughter's alarmed shout. But they stopped there at the sight that greeted them.

"What the f—?"

Her hand moved on its own to slap Yamato's shoulder and cut his cussing short. Her eyes, her entire being, completely focused on her children.

Haruko held her Papa's tablet high over her head, but she too looked on in amazement as its screen glowed bright, as a digivice very clearly materialized out of it. Aki grabbed it as it fell, cooing happily, and the he looked up as another, bigger, object— _an egg_ —came out of the tablet's glowing screen.

This made them react, but Yamato was faster, as he simply lunged forward and caught the egg before it landed on their son's head.

Silence reigned—and then Haruko broke it, exclaiming happily.

"Ooh, you have a partner now, Aki!"

The children broke into a fit of happy giggles that soon tuned into an actual laugh. Yamato let out a sigh as he turned to look at her over his shoulder; his smile was tentative but genuine. And she could do nothing but smile back, willing her heart to settle down.

"Looks like there won't be a bang now," said Yamato.

And she was eternally grateful for that.

"Looks like it."

* * *

 **End.**

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So, that's that.

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Thank you all for reading and please review!


	7. august 16th

Well, this is un-betaed. And honestly, I'm not exactly sure if I managed to make it work with the prompt of today.

Mm. So, I tried it to make it as friendshippy as possible. I wanted to portray just their friendship, their undestanding of what they went through in the cave without having to retell the whole incident.

Yeah, I dunno if I succeded.

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

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 **(Because every day is significant.)**

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 _August 16th: Promises & Future_

With a strangled gasp, Sora awoke; the panic that gripped her was slowly fading away, losing its hold on her—the angry tears were all it left behind.

It happened again.

 _(She thought she could forget, that feeling—sinking, down, down,_ _ **down**_ _into an endless ocean of darkness. She thought she could forget, the unyielding depression and the helplessness, the fear—_ _ **failure**_ _. She failed and that knowledge dragged her further down. Down, down, down. And then she was suffocating and waiting—praying for the light to come. The help. For her friends to come and help her, tell her it was okay to be selfish—that she didn't need to be the responsible one all the time. She was just a kid._

 _But nothing came and she found herself alone in an endless abyss. There was no light, no words of encouragement; no relief, no smiles, no understanding—there was no…)_

With a shuddering intake of breath, Sora sat up and brought her knees up, hugging them tight to her chest. She tried to will her body to stop shaking, scolding herself mentally, because—because it was stupid! She shouldn't be afraid anymore, of something that happened almost two years ago! Something of no… consequence anymore…

Her lips trembled, a sob began to climb up her throat, but Sora refused to let it out; she bit her lip and pressed her forehead to her raised knees, taking deep breaths. In and out. In and out. There was no _need_ to fear, the danger had long passed; she was not alone, never again. She had her family and her friends; she was loved. It was just a dream.

Then why, did she feel the need to crawl under the blankets next to her mother and ask her to keep her safe? No.

Sora shook her head almost violently— _no_. She couldn't go to her mother, she couldn't. She just needed someone to listen, to understand—someone who would…

 _(…Yamato.)_

Before chickening out, Sora scrambled for her cellphone, grabbing it from her nightstand. The little screen mockingly tells her it's five minutes to three in the morning, an entirely inappropriate hour to bother anyone, but she's already scrolling through her short list of contacts until she finds the desired number.

 _«Stupid nightmare…»_

Quickly, still driven by her selfish need for someone to listen, typing her message—but then stopped. She sighed tiredly. It was a stupid nightmare. There was no valid reason to bother anyone because of it. Tightening her grip on her cellphone, she pressed the send button by accident, and stared at the little screen as her free hand lifted as if she could snatch back the message.

Too late.

Crawling back to her futon, Sora struggled with herself; a part of her wanted her text to be answered and another wanted it to be ignored. If the later proved to be true, in a few hours she could… come up with an explanation for it, and—her cellphone started ringing.

Her thumb pressed the talk button automatically, and Sora held the speaker to her chest as she held her breath, trying to strain her hearing in case her mother was alerted of her very much awake daughter.

Everything was silent, and she let out a relieved sigh. Moving the cellphone to her ear, she heard the rustling of what she could only assume were sheets, and then a familiar, sleepy-sounding and deep voice called out.

"Sora… Are you there? …Scream if you're being molested."

She really couldn't help the snort that escaped her. "Your jokes are not getting funnier, Yamato, I told you that."

There was a pause, and more rustling, then his voice came again, reassuring her somehow. "It made you laugh…"

"Your sleepy voice made me laugh," she paused, hesitation making her want to hang up. "I'm sorry I woke you, I'll let you go back to sleep now—"

"No," said Yamato, sounding more alert now. "Give a minute, don't hang up."

She did, even if her head was telling her to hang up, to let her friend sleep, Sora knew that, if she did, Yamato would call her again. Probably more worried than he was now. She heard him yawn and then a sound like a sliding door opening and closing.

"Yamato?"

"Yeah? Sorry, I had to come to the balcony; my father arrived just a little while ago. He's a light sleeper, surprisingly."

"Okay."

"Tell me what's wrong, Sora," he said, more like demanded but not unkindly. "And don't say it's nothing. You wouldn't have texted me for nothing."

Sora stood up and walked to her desk chair, she dropped onto it, leaning her elbows on her desk and let her eyes wander over the darkened sky.

"It… was just a silly dream…"

There was a long pause, and then a deep breath; Yamato _understood_ now, and his question arrived seconds later, barely above a whisper, "The cave?"

"Yes… I know it's—"

"It's not silly… So, tell me about it."

She didn't want to tell him, simply because they already _had_ this conversation the night before leaving the digiworld, and again a few weeks after the incident with Diaboromon; Sora didn't like having to depend on Yamato like this, having to burden him with her worries when he probably had his own to concern himself about. Still, she told him.

"I couldn't get out of there," she began, her voice breaking a little. "No one came—I couldn't do anything to save myself and I kept sinking… I was alone."

And that was the crux of the matter; the fear of being, once again, alone.

"It's not going to happen, not again, Sora…" said Yamato, his voice soft, and it helped. "You'll never be alone, you have… _us_."

"But what if it does… happen again? What if…?"

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Sora smiled a little upon hearing his overconfident tone, knowing for sure he was smirking. She whispered, "You can't promise that."

Those words brought back the serious nature of their talk.

"I can promise to do my best to try and prevent it," he said after a while. "I can promise you that. And I can promise to always be there for you if you need me."

A lingering pause.

"You are… one of my dearest friends, Sora," his voice sounded a little strained, and she knew it was because Yamato still found it hard to express himself, and she supposed, that saying it over the phone helped a little. "And I swear to do my best to keep those promises."

She couldn't help the warm feeling that spiraled out from her chest. "Thank you, Yamato… you're one of my dearest friends too."

"Yes, well," now he sounded nervous; Sora didn't bother to repress her smile. "If we're honest, of the two of us, I'm more prone to start brooding and sulking. So, you'll probably be doing the saving."

She laughed. "If that was another attempt at a joke, you failed, Ishida."

The sleep would still not come, and Sora felt a little guilty to have Yamato stay up at this hour because of her, but his reassurance—his _promise_ made her feel lighter than before.

"It still made you laugh, Takenouchi."

And perhaps more importantly, it made her feel safe.

* * *

 **End.**

* * *

And, that.

Thanks for reading, as always, and please review!


	8. august 17th

So, I'm terribly late, according to my clock. If I lived somewhere else, I'd be fine. Ok.

This one... is slightly more... sexy? Srsly. Nothing explicit, or smutty, but...

Well.

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

* * *

 **(Because every day is significant.)**

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 _August 17th: Freebie Day. Do what you want!_

He didn't hear the alarm going off in the morning, but he felt her lips pressing a gentle kiss against his temple—that woke him up a little, but Yamato refused to open his eyes, or move for that matter. He was perfectly comfortable being sprawled across their bed, one hand under his pillow, burying his face in it, the other partially hanging off the bed.

He knew it was early still, mostly because he could hear his children moving about the house getting ready for school, but also because he felt like he'd barely slept for an hour. Which was actually an hour and a half, if he'd bothered to glance at the clock—he'd gone to bed at six, approximately.

Yamato spent the next several minutes, drifting in that space between dream and reality, listening to his children running around as they gathered their school supplies, bickering with each other, complaining about this and that to their mother. He must've drifted off at some point during that, because when he came back to it, he echo of their goodbyes was fading and Sora was trailing kisses across his shoulders.

A low moan rumbled deep within his chest, but didn't quite make it out. He turned on his back, eyes still closed and a pleased smirk tugging at his lips; Sora wasn't deterred, brushing her lips over his collarbone and up his neck until she could claim his mouth.

Amazing, how after thirty-three years together, Sora still managed to get his motor running with surprising ease.

It showed, in the way his hands moved without his consent trying to unveil that soft, bronzed skin that never failed to set his insides on fire. In the way she smiled against his lips at his insistence, his low groan as he tried to pull her closer, kiss her harder. But then Sora grabbed his hands and pinned them to the mattress, eliciting a low growl this time, and forcing him to crack one eye open.

She drew his lower lip between her teeth and tugged on it, pulling back enough to give him a smile that did little to hide her mischievousness. Oh, she just loved to tease him.

"Little minx…"

Leaning down to kiss his nose, she told him to go back to sleep, "I have to go to the office for a while, but I'll be back before lunch."

He grunted his response, and pecked her lips one more time before relaxing completely on the bed again. He was still exhausted and soon was drifting in and out of consciousness. The sound of running water was the last thing he heard before falling into a deep slumber.

 **.**

Later that day Yamato followed into her study, presumably to wait for her to finish whatever she had to—he didn't wait for long.

He'd woken up a second time to the feeling of her fingers drawing random patterns on his chest. He'd been more rested, if a little tired, and had stretched for long seconds before sitting up and giving his wife a lazy smile.

Sora had kissed his cheek and then ushered him off to the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and shower because lunch would be ready soon. It wasn't long before they were both eating their food, and less still when Sora escaped into her study.

And here they were now.

She'd made a show of busying herself with her laptop, but Yamato could see the little glint in her eyes, the subtle way in which she shifted in her desk chair—enticing. He fell for it rather quickly, but it'd been long, long months since the last time he had some alone time with his wife. And if everything went according to plan, this recent trip to space would be the last to take this long.

Probably his last.

But, pushing all that aside, Yamato circled the desk until he was standing next to her; Sora ignored him, or pretended to. He wasn't fooled. Spinning her chair around, Yamato grabbed her wrist and pulled her up against his chest—he smirked.

"I should bend you over this desk and have my way with you," he said, his voice heavy with promises.

Her eyes darkened, lips parting slightly—she got the message.

"What's stopping you?"

With a decidedly smug smirk, Yamato spun them around and he let himself fall on her chair, forcing her onto his lap. His wife, he thought, had amazing legs—still. And clearly, she knew they drove him wild, if her choice of apparel said anything at all.

Splaying his fingers over the skin of her thighs, Yamato slid the pencil skirt up, up, up until it bunched around her hips. Catching a glimpse of her underwear didn't made it any easier; he hissed. Sora smiled as her hands wandered under his shirt, forcing a growl out of him.

"You did this on purpose," he whispered hotly, mouth pressed against her neck and it made him incredibly pleased to hear her moan in response.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said after a while.

Yamato was set on making her confess her ploy, but his wife had other ideas, clearly; her lips had his locked in a passionate kiss, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth without much ado. One of his hands rose to grab the back of her head, angling it to grant him better access, kiss her better. The other lost no time in sliding over the skin of her delightful derrière, his middle finger slipping under her flimsy underwear, its goal clear.

Sora broke the kiss, her back arching as a arousing moan escaped her bruised lips. With a gasp, her hands dove for his pants—

 _"WE'RE HOME!"_

—and froze.

 _"Did you have to scream like that?"_

Yamato blinked, several times, slightly confused because his head refused to believe they were interrupted. Sora sighed, smiling apologetically as she rose from his lap. She fixed her skirt, righting her blouse and trying to comb her hair—still, Yamato remained sitting, not believing his luck.

" _Uncle Takeru said it was necessary. Dad has been gone for a long time, and Mom is going to take this week off work. It's obvious what going to happen."_

Now that, made Yamato react.

"I'm going to kill my little brother," he growled, a frown marring his face.

Sora just shook her head, already walking towards the door; she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss. "Tell me if you need help disposing of the body."

As soon as the door opened, they heard their children at the beginnings of another bickering match.

 _"Oh my God, Aki! That's just—what the actual hell?"_

Yamato smiled; it was good to be home.

* * *

 **End.**

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Well, so, there. :P

That concludes, this little collection!

Thanks for reading, of course, and thank to you all who took the time to review! I appreciate it!


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